


untitled youtuber game

by MrsCalculation



Series: Click to Subscribe [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Adoptive family, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Artist Yuri Plisetsky, M/M, Makeup Artist Victor, YouTube, everyone else is still a skater, they both used to skate but had to quit for Reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21990784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsCalculation/pseuds/MrsCalculation
Summary: Former figure skater, current YouTuber Viktor Nikiforov visits his adoptive brother Yuri Plisetsky at his university in Detroit. Katsuki Yuuri is still a cute drunk. YouTuber pining ensues.
Relationships: Christophe Giacometti & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Victor Nikiforov & Yuri Plisetsky, background Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Series: Click to Subscribe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587577
Comments: 8
Kudos: 157
Collections: The Yuri!!! on Ice Secret Santa - Edition 2019





	untitled youtuber game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HotaruYuki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotaruYuki/gifts).



> Written for the Yuri on Ice Secret Santa 2019! The request was for fluff, and I added a hint of a gamer/YouTuber AU to top it off!
> 
> Viktor's family adopted Yuri when his grandfather could no longer take care of him, so he's Viktor's younger brother. I have some background on that and some other scenes from this written that I'll share soon!

It’s late October, Yuri has been in Detroit since mid-August, and Viktor is in the United States for the first time since the injury that ended his competitive career.

It’s fine, he’s fine, and Yuri is definitely fine. Viktor is coming to visit after the end of Yuri’s midterms since Yuri won’t be able to come home until late December, and he’s _sure_ Yuri is fine. He’s an incredible artist and perhaps the single most stubborn, obsessive, competitive asshole Victor has ever met. There’s no way that he didn’t absolutely annihilate his midterms, especially with this being his first semester. They were probably on boringly easy stuff on the theory behind everything he does, anyway. Or maybe drawing something so easy it’s like stick figures to Yuri. Viktor doesn’t know. He never went to art school.

He never went to university, actually.

  
  


While Viktor had every intention of giving Yuri his space on this visit, Yuri makes it far too easy for Viktor to throw that idea out.

“Hey, old man,” he says, “I’m going to a friend’s tonight to celebrate the end of midterms. You don’t have to come. You should sleep.”

What Viktor hears is instead, _Oh, loving adoptive older brother of mine, wouldn’t you love to meet my friends? Drink with them? Tell them embarrassing stories from my childhood, then brag about me until I can’t decide which I’d rather die from? Please come with me. Please embarrass me._

What Viktor says is, “Yura! I’d love to go with you! I can always come back early if I’m too tired, but I don’t get to meet your friends every day!”

Yuri groans and threatens to end Viktor’s life if he embarrasses him, to which Viktor gives a chipper, “I would never!”

  
  


Viktor must say, he’s a little disappointed at the things Yuri has been getting up to in America.

For one, this _celebration_ turns out to be five guys playing a drinking game in one of their apartments. They’re playing what is apparently a very difficult level of a single-player video game, and any time one of them dies, they take a shot and pass the controller to the next person.

For another, someone thought that this rubbing alcohol passed as _vodka._

After a brief squabble during which Yuri launches himself at the guy who’s best at the game—also named Yuuri, funnily enough—and the whole thing being put on Instagram for the world to see, Yuri sends Viktor away to get more alcohol for the group. Viktor knows he should be a better influence than buying alcohol for his underage brother, but they’re Russian, and if they were in Russia, all of this would be acceptable and legal, so he only puts up a fight long enough to get Yuri angry about being treated like a child, but not enough for Yuri to actually fight him.

Viktor has never been happier to be a poor influence.

As it turns out, the other Yuuri is a cute drunk, very clingy and affectionate and loud and wont to praise Viktor to the moon.

He’s also a figure skater, apparently.

“I used to look up to you so much,” he says, hoodie off and leaning across Viktor. Leo has gone back to the dorm he and Yuri share, and Phichit has stepped outside for a call. Yuri is passed out with his head pillowed in Otabek’s lap, and Otabek, who either did not drink at all or is completely unphased by alcohol, sits with his headphones in, scrolling through his phone, absentmindedly running his fingers through Yuri’s hair. “Nikiforov. I used to want to be just like you. You were the best.”

While Viktor appreciates the praise, he’s also never heard Yuuri’s name in his life before because he hasn’t really followed figure skating for years. “Thank you,” he says, and is rewarded with Yuuri wrapping his arms around Viktor’s shoulders.

“Are you okay? Viktor? Are you okay?” Yuuri’s eyes are glossy and his glasses are crooked and falling across the tip his reddening nose. Viktor?” he asks again.

“I’m fine,” Viktor says reflexively, then, “but what about you?”

“No, Viktor, I’m fine. Viktor! I mean. Up here.” Yuuri goes to poke Viktor in the forehead but misses, getting him in the bottom of the eyebrow. He squints his eyes and tries again, and he’s closer to the center this time. “I was so sad when you got hurt, Viktor. I wish you could skate again. I don’t know what would happen if I couldn’t skate again, but I know I wouldn’t be okay up here.” He presses his finger a little harder into Viktor’s forehead.

Viktor feels his eyes water just a little. He wraps an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and moves him to sitting upright. “I’m doing a lot better,” Viktor says, and he means it. It had taken a lot, but Viktor had eventually learned to live off the ice. “Thank you for asking.”

Yuuri, still swaying just a little bit after being moved, wraps Viktor into a hug. “Good,” he says, and it’s a little watery and very genuine. “I thought so. I watched your videos and you seemed better, but I wanted to make sure.” He giggles a little bit, but maintains his hug. “I mean, I didn’t think I would ever get to make sure because I don’t know you, but now I can.”

“I’m so good now, Yuuri,” Viktor says as he gently, awkwardly returns the hug. Yuuri has his arms trapped, and it’s a little bit of a struggle to get them free, but he manages it and folds Yuuri against his chest for a second. “Thank you,” he says into Yuuri’s hair.

After another moment, they pull apart. “Hey,” Yuuri says, listing to the side without Viktor to hold onto. “Watch me, okay? I have a competition next weekend. Watch me.”

Viktor nods, and Yuuri makes a happy sound.

“I’ll be skating for you,” he says.

Viktor is shocked, then beaming, then completely empty of Yuuri too soon as Phichit returns.

“All right, Yuuri, let’s go,” he says, hoisting Yuuri up and tossing his hoodie back to him. “I already called an Uber, so you have three minutes to get it together before we have to go.”

Viktor gets Yuuri a glass of water while Phichit gathers their things. Yuuri wiggles a little while he drinks it, and is then being shuffled out the door by Phichit.

“Nice to meet you, Viktor!” Phichit says over his shoulder as they go.

If Yuuri says anything, Viktor doesn’t hear it.

  
  


Viktor goes to an art gallery with Yuri and Otabek, looking at the art that Yuri’s classmates have on display and for sale. As it turns out, Yuri had skipped the opening of the gallery in favor of the drunken video game kickback at Otabek’s, and Viktor honestly can’t blame him. As great of an artist as Yuri is, he’s never been one for schmoozing, and that seems to be all that’s happening here. Viktor pulls Otabek away when Yuri runs into someone he knows and gets caught up in conversation.

Viktor likes Otabek, really. It’s clear that he balances Yuri out and is a calming influence, _and_ he speaks Russian, which not only makes wrangling Yuri easier, but shit talking as well. Viktor likes Otabek, which is exactly why he pulls Otabek now.

“How old are you, Otabek?” Viktor asks in Russian.

“Excuse me?” Otabek’s face stays completely passive as usual.

“How old? I’m just curious.”

“Twenty-one at the end of the month.”

“And Leo and Yuuri and Phichit?”

“Leo and Phichit are twenty, and Yuuri will be 24 next month. Why?” Otabek finally questions. He’s not putting up a fight, and doesn’t even seem genuinely curious. It seems like he just thinks he has to ask.

“Oh, no reason,” Viktor says lightly, plastering his friendliest smile for the public on his face. “I was just wondering how Yuri got to know all of you when none of you would be in the same classes, since you’re all older.”

“Ah,” Otabek says, then doesn’t tell Viktor. Viktor swears his lack of an answer must be deliberate; Yuri would never befriend someone who wasn’t at least a little bit of an asshole.

“Well?” Viktor prompts. “How did you meet Yuri?”

“He’s roommates with Leo. Leo and I used to skate together, and Leo is friends with Phichit, so when Leo found out that Yuri used to skate, he invited us all to the rink where Phichit and Yuuri train.”

It’s the most Viktor has heard Otabek say since meeting him, but he appreciates it. “Thank you,” he says because he feels obligated to do so. A slow smile spreads across his face. “You know, to show how much I appreciate you looking out for Yuri, let me tell you something,” he says conspiratorially.

Otabek raises an eyebrow, which is a more enthused response than Viktor has gotten out of him up to this point.

“When Yuri was younger,” Viktor starts, then looks around to see if anyone is trying to eavesdrop just in time to see Yuri’s blind fury before his hand is around Viktor’s throat.

“Whatever you’re going to say,” he says lowly, “I recommend rethinking it if you value your life.”

“Next time, then!” Viktor says chipperly once Yuri lets him go. He rubs at his throat.

Yuri shoots him a death glare, but from behind him, Otabek mouths _next time._

* * *

When Viktor gets back to Russia, far enough that he knows Yuri won’t be able to judge him, he looks up everything he can on Katsuki Yuuri.

For the first year after his accident, Viktor had purposely avoided all things skating. He still heard about things, of course, but he spent his time in physical therapy practicing walking without a walker or cane, not worried about trying to balance on skates or which blade to land on after a jump. He hadn’t wanted to remind himself of what he would never do again, so he avoided watching competitions or keeping up with scores or anything related to competition at all unless it was for some of his friends. He didn’t bother following anyone new, even once he felt comfortable skating for fun again.

If he had continued to compete, or if he had chosen early retirement instead of having it forced upon him, Viktor is certain he would have followed Yuuri’s journey.

He’s heading into his first competition of the Grand Prix Series, where he’ll make his comeback after a disastrous performance at last year’s final and a broken ankle that kept him off the ice for months. While Viktor’s injury had been career-ending, Yuuri describes his in interviews as _embarrassing_ and _motivating_.

“I let my life distract me so much from my skating that I was injured, which negatively impacted both,” Viktor reads in one article. “It’s difficult and embarrassing to have fallen this far, but I’ve decided I want to try one more time for all the people who have supported me through this. I hope to show them that everything I do is for them.”

Viktor watches Yuuri’s programs from the year before, both his qualifiers and at the final, and is shocked to see the dramatic difference between Yuri’s mostly clean and beautifully-emotional qualifier free program and his messy, numb performance at the final.

The commentator declares that the next jump is supposed to be a quad-triple combination, but in its place comes a rough fall, gasps from the commentators, and Yuri’s powerful attempt to finish the program despite obvious pain.

Viktor closes out the video, trying to reconcile the image he has in his head of a slightly snarky Yuuri enjoying Yuri’s anger with the fumbling mess that Viktor saw on ice, the affectionate but loud and lewd Yuuri of one or two or five drinks too many with the polite, nervous Yuuri of interviews. At its best, it comes together to form a beautiful, talented skater whose programs leave the audience aching for just another glimpse, just a moment longer; at worst, they leave behind the hollow-eyed remnants of a skater who drinks his way through social interactions.

Viktor doesn’t feel like he knows either of those people.

He finds Yuuri’s YouTube channel, slightly awkward with the knowledge that Yuuri has apparently seen some of his videos, but accepts that he knew what he was doing when he started a channel. Almost none of Yuuri’s content has anything to do with figure skating, but is instead him playing video games with Phichit, which explains why he was so much better than everyone else at their dumb drinking game. His channel goes back a few years, starting just a few months before Yuuri’s senior debut and aligning perfectly with when Yuuri moved to Detroit to skate. It doesn’t seem like he posts on a schedule, but he seems to have at least one for every two weeks, sometimes more. Viktor clicks on an earlier one where he and Phichit take turns playing a dating simulator, and Viktor is entirely charmed at how confidently Yuuri makes ridiculous choices when designing his character, but how easily he gets flustered when Phichit tries to direct them to the _dating_ part of the dating sim.

“Yuuri! You aren’t trying to make friends with them, you’re trying to sleep with them!”

Yuuri’s face goes noticeably red on screen, and his shoulders stiffen. “What’s wrong with being friendly to someone you want to sleep with?”

Several hours later, Viktor pulls himself out of a spiral of content and into the living room. He opens the doors to the storage in his TV stand and smiles.

Well, he might as well.

  
  


“Good morning, amazing people! Today I’m doing something a little bit different, inspired by a few of Katsuki Yuuri’s videos with Phichit Chulanont. I’ve never done a video like this before, so I hope it works! If you like it, I may make it a series of me trying to play games I’ve never played before. We’ll see!”

Viktor isn’t lying. He really hopes it works. He didn’t have any of these games just lying around, and he spent far too much money getting them, but at the very least, it should be fun. It’s chaotic and he knows it, but it was cheaper than buying another ticket to Detroit.

Of course, during the create-a-character section at the beginning of the game, he makes it far more like a makeup and fashion tutorial than it needs to be, but the subscribers come to his channel for the content he produces, so he should probably stay on brand.

When he uploads the video, which is mostly him being a disaster and making all the datable characters dislike him (which, how? There’s only three dialogue options at a time, so how does he _always_ choose the wrong one?), he tags it with Yuuri’s channel and Phichit’s name. He also tags them both in his Instagram post promoting his new upload, just in case.

  
  


Two days later and the video has done moderately well with just about average metrics for his usual videos, and Yuri has texted him telling him to chill the fuck out and not to tag anyone he knows in videos again.

 _I thought you didn’t watch anything I post_ , Viktor sends. He gets several messages of just middle finger emojis in response.

Viktor still hasn’t heard from Yuuri, though, so he doesn’t quite count it as a success.

  
  


He foregoes a video game upload for the next week, uploading instead a few Halloween makeup tutorials. He has fun doing them, though Makkachin isn’t overly fond of posing as Viktor’s sidekick for some of the shots. The makeup videos do better than the video game one, but that usually happens around this time of year anyway. His old tutorials are getting more views lately, too, so he can’t really be disheartened by it, but he really wants an excuse to post another video game video.

After a few days, Viktor has still heard nothing from Yuuri, but he tries not to dwell on it. He knows it’s competition season, and he knows exactly how much energy Yuuri doesn’t have to spend on social media.

He also knows exactly when Yuuri’s performances are, because he has alarms set to watch them live. He plans on taking a midday nap today so that he’ll stay awake for the performance that Yuuri has just after midnight.

Viktor considers making a video of him reacting to watching Yuuri’s performances, but he decides that’s too weird.

(He’s glad he doesn’t, because it might be too revealing how enthusiastically Viktor cheers when Yuuri lands a quad loop in free.)

The day after Yuuri’s free program, Viktor posts a picture to his Instagram story wishing Otabek a happy birthday, which immediately ends up on Otabek’s own story with a “thank you” and nothing else.

Yuuri still doesn’t contact Viktor, which, okay, he never said he _would_ , but he did say he would be skating for him, which seems like it should mean something. But apparently not, which is totally fine with Viktor, absolutely.

Viktor should have gotten Yuri’s number.

  
  


The week before the Rostelecom Cup, Viktor uploads a video of him playing another simulator. This time, he designs a house for simulated versions of himself and Makkachin and Yuri and Yuri’s cats, then purposely makes Yuri a bad at everything and prone to burning things down by accident. He tags Yuri’s art channel in it.

(“You’re not funny,” Yuri says when he calls Viktor.

“Maybe not to you,” Viktor says, thrilled by how furious Yuri is that he can’t hit Viktor through the phone. “I made you pretty, at least.”

“You gave me purple eyeshadow, Viktor. What’s the point of being a makeup artist if you’re going to give people purple eyeshadow. Fuck you.”)

Yuuri doesn’t respond to this video, either, but a new upload does go up on his channel two days later. In it, Phichit is playing the same simulator, finding creative and horrible ways to kill his characters until Yuuri walks in, horrified.

“Phichit! Stop drowning people!”

Not only does Phichit not stop drowning people, he also tries to flirt with the grim reaper.

Viktor is inspired. His version of the video, where he and Yuri compete to the death but Yuri loses almost every time, is uploaded and tagged with Phichit and Yuuri the morning before Rostelecom.

Which is perfect, because Viktor has a train to Moscow to catch.

  
  


Viktor had just wanted to see a competition again, that’s all. Since his accident, he hasn’t seen a live competition, and he thinks it’s about time that he accepts that the figure skating world was going to move on without him one day, anyway.

It’s absolutely just a coincidence that Katsuki Yuuri happens to be competing at the one he chooses to go to.

It makes sense, of course, that if Viktor was going to drop money on tickets to a competition it would be the one in Moscow. His parents still live there, after all, so it’s a great place for him to spend a few days. It also just so happens to be that Yuuri’s final qualifier before the final is the Rostelecom Cup. And that Viktor only bought tickets to the men’s singles events.

Viktor has another old friend from his years in competition here, too, so it just makes sense that he would come to this event.

He drops his bags at his parents’ apartment, then goes to breathe in Moscow. He doesn’t come here nearly enough.

Almost immediately after posting a picture from his favorite cafe in the Moscow twilight, Viktor receives a call from Yuri.

“The fuck are you doing in Moscow?”

“The heck are you doing awake?” Viktor asks, matching his energy and mocking his tone.

“I have a class in an hour, don’t avoid the question. Why are you in Moscow?”

“I can’t just visit home?” Viktor asks cheerily. “You should do it more often, Yura, mom and dad would love to have you around, and I’m sure your grandfather would love to see you, too.”

“You pay for my plane tickets, then. But I know you aren’t _visiting home_ , asshole, so what the fuck are you doing?”

Viktor sighs exaggeratedly. “Well, if you must know, Chris is competing here in the morning, and I thought it might be nice to visit him.”

Yuri is quiet for a moment. “...no,” he finally says.

“No what?”

“Beka was right,” he says, which Viktor really wishes he could have recorded to keep forever.

“What?” it takes Viktor a second to catch up, realizing midway through Yuri's rant that by _that pig_ Yuri means Yuuri and not Chris, by which point, Yuri is already blazing on.

“He said he saw you two being all gross and stuff when I fell asleep but I ignored him, Yuuri is just an idiot when he’s drunk—well, he’s always an idiot, but you know, more of an idiot—he tried to challenge me to a dance battle once, so I really thought that even if you were being all gross and stuff, any dancing really would have stopped this from becoming a thing, because his dancing is _terrible_ , but _no_ , you really do have a thing for that dumb pig, don’t you?”

Yuri clearly isn’t asking the question for an answer, but he does make the mistake of pausing for breath, during which Viktor takes the time to say as brightly as possible, “maybe if you didn’t get so drunk that you passed out on your boyfriend, you could have stopped this from happening!” 

Viktor waits just long enough to hear Yuri’s spluttered “what—we’re not—” before hanging up on him.

  
  


Viktor is at the event early the next morning, hoping to use the time before the competition actually starts to get used to the feel of a rink again. It isn’t as bad he expected. Hearing the familiar announcements and the scrape of blades on ice and the click of blades landing after jumps fills him with more nostalgia than anything else.

From his seat in the stands, he manages to get a somewhat-blurry picture of the men’s warmups that has both Chris and Yuuri in it, though not super clearly. He accompanies it with other pictures of the stadium when he hears a few concerned noises from some of the people milling around him. When he turns, he sees Yuuri righting himself after having clearly fallen on the ice.

Viktor goes still, looking for any of the telltale signs of significant injury, but Yuuri seems fine, though a little out of his head. Viktor watches for another quiet minute until the announcement clearing skaters from the ice sounds.

He wants to watch all of the performers, but he has time before either Yuuri or Chris goes on, so he takes a second to post his pictures to Instagram. _I’ve missed this_ , he captions the shots of the ice and the advertisements and the kiss-and-cry, the last picture in the group being the one he took of the warmups. He tags both Yuuri and Chris in it.

After the short program, Yuuri ends up in fourth, Chris in second, with some younger kid that skates like ice all over the world belongs to him is in first.

  
  


When he’s in his old, tiny bed in his parents’ house that evening, considering whether he should move some of the stuff in Yuri’s room around just to piss him off when he comes back for his winter holidays, Viktor absentmindedly checks Instagram for the thirtieth time that day. He had already had an entire conversation with Chris in the comments section of his post determining that they would meet up at the end of the event before Chris’s flight leaves, and Viktor is actually looking forward to seeing him in person for the first time in several years.

In his notifications is an almost-insignificant sentence telling him that Yuuri has liked his post.

  
  


Before the free skate the next day, Yuuri doesn’t flub any of his practice jumps, and Viktor spots him chatting comfortably with his coach for a moment just before the first skater takes the ice.

Viktor’s phone buzzes in his hand with a message from Yuri. _stop being gross_ , it says. When he looks up again, Yuuri is gone.

Yuuri performs beautifully when it’s his turn, and he cries at the kiss-and-cry when his scores are announced. He’s pretty much guaranteed a spot in the final.

Chris also snags a spot in the final, but that’s no surprise. He’s made it to every final for the past four years. That doesn’t stop Viktor from giving him a bouquet when he finds him after the event.

“Congratulations, Chris!”

“Thank you,” he says as he absentmindedly touches the silver medal around his neck. “It hasn’t been the same without you. How have you been? I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I’ve been doing really well,” Viktor says, actually somewhat surprised with the accuracy of it, then beams at Chris. “Is it different because it’s easier for you to medal with me gone?”

Chris smirks back at him. “I would have beaten you eventually,” he says. “Come on, let me go change and drop this off at the hotel before we go out.”

“At least take me to dinner first,” Viktor says, and he’d forgotten how easy being friends with Chris was.

“I’m trying,” Chris says with a wink, and Viktor laughs with his whole body. He can’t believe he may have let these sorts of friendships die.

They make easy banter on the way back to the hotel, talking as if barely any time has passed at all, and Viktor realizes, somewhat sadly, that when you travel as much as he used to for competitions, maybe four years isn’t really that big of a gap when you only see someone three or four times a year anyway.

The doors to the hotel elevator are closing when Viktor sees someone approaching. He sticks his foot in the doorway to stop it from closing while continuing his conversation with Chris, who turns to greet the newcomer.

“Yuuri! Congratulations!”

“You, too. Thanks, Chris,” Yuuri says genuinely, eyes a little puffy from crying, but clearly in a good way. He turns and looks at Viktor as the elevator doors close. “Oh.”

“Congrats, Yuuri! I’ll watch you at the final!” Viktor says. He isn’t sure how else to make it clear that he’s here specifically because of Yuuri.

“Thank you,” Yuuri says, quieter than before.

“Yuuri, we’re going to dinner after I drop some things off in my room,” Chris tells him. “Would you like to join us?”

“Oh, uh,” Yuuri says, looking down, then back and forth between Chris and Viktor. “Um, yeah, that would be nice,” he decides as the doors open on his floor.

“Meet in the lobby in twenty!” Chris says as Yuuri steps off the elevator.

“Yeah,” Yuuri gets out before the doors close.

The elevator is quiet for a moment, then Chris breaks it with, “You know him.” It’s not a question.

“I do,” Viktor agrees easily.

“How?”

“He trains where Yura goes to school,” Viktor says. “They know each other.”

“Hm.” Chris is quiet until the elevator dings their arrival to his floor. “You like him,” Chris says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Viktor says, extremely grateful to be getting off the elevator. He walks forward and out of the small alcove the elevators are housed in, then realizes he has no idea which direction he needs to go. He stops.

Behind him, Chris snorts. “Sure. Left.”

Viktor turns and starts walking.

“He likes you, too,” Chris says.

“What was that?” Viktor asks in Russian. “I don’t speak English.”

Chris switches to French for a few colorful phrases, then back to English. “You’ll see him in a few minutes anyway, so you’ll figure it out,” he says, finally stepping in front of Viktor. “Here, it’s this one,” he says as he stops in front of a door.

“I’m not the one who needs to figure it out,” he says, then pushes Chris into the room. “Get yourself together so we can go, hurry up.”

“Easy,” Chris says, but obliges anyway.

When they get back downstairs, Yuuri is already waiting for them.

“Hey, Yuuri,” Chris says easily. “Is there anything in particular you want to eat? Viktor is from around here, so just let him know and he’ll take us to a place.”

“Uh, no, not really,” Yuuri says. “I kind of just want to try whatever local thing is best.”

“Do you mind a little bit of a walk?” Viktor asks them both, who both shake their heads no. “Okay, perfect. I know a great traditional place a little less than twenty minutes from here.”

Five minutes into their walk there, Chris pats his pockets. “Damn,” he says, “I think I left my wallet upstairs. I’m going to go grab it, you two go on without me! I’ll meet you there!”

“Are you sure? We could walk back with you, it isn’t that far,” Yuuri offers.

“No, it’s fine! Viktor, can you message me the place?”

Viktor glares at him but agrees as Chris takes off back towards the hotel. “Give me a second,” he tells Yuuri as he pulls up the location of the restaurant and shares it with Chris. “Okay.”

They walk in silence for a second before Yuuri asks, “How have you been?”

“Oh, great!” Viktor says genuinely. “I’m working on some new things for the channel that combine my usual stuff with other media, and I’m enjoying it a lot. How are you?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen some of that,” Yuuri says vaguely, “and I’m really good. Nervous. Excited about the final.”

“Nervous?” Viktor asks as his phone buzzes in his hand. “Oh, that—” he cuts himself off as he looks at Chris’s message.

 _Definitely didn’t leave my wallet_ , it reads, _but you can tell him I think I left it at rink. Good luck! ;)_

“What’s going on?” Yuuri asks.

“Chris is an idiot.”

“What happened?” Yuuri seems genuinely concerned.

“He left his wallet at the rink,” Viktor says, surprising himself. The smile he gives Yuuri is far too wide and is brittle at the edges. He’s going to kill Chris. “He says to go on without him.”

“Oh.”

“Do you just want to go back?” Viktor asks. Yuuri had agreed to dinner with Chris, after all, and not with him.

“No! It’s okay,” Yuuri says. “Let’s keep moving, it’s cold.”

“How’s Yuri?” Yuuri asks after another few moments of walking in silence.

“You tell me,” Viktor says. “You see him more than I do.”

“Just because I see him more doesn’t mean I talk to him more. He trusts you.”

Viktor sighs. “I hope so. He doesn’t always tell me how he is when he calls, but I think he’s doing well. He’s got more friends than he did when he was growing up, and he complains about the classes, which means he’s actually learning something.” Viktor pauses for a moment, considering. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Yeah?”

“If you ever notice Yuri acting way off, can you let me know? I mean,” Viktor interrupts himself, “you don’t have to, like, keep tabs on him or anything, but if you ever notice something really wrong.”

“I mean, of course,” Yuuri says, “but I won’t have to.”

Viktor looks over at him. “What do you mean?”

Yuuri stops walking. “You know, the night I met you, Yuri kept glancing over at you, and at first I thought it was because he didn’t want you there because he’s around his friends and suddenly you’re there, but then I realized that he was looking out for you.” He pauses like he’s waiting for Viktor to say something, and when he doesn’t, he continues, “he made sure to angle himself so you were always included in the group and everything.”

“Huh,” Viktor says, and he smiles softly at the idea of Yuri trying to be protective.

“And Viktor,” Yuuri says, suddenly more serious. “I’ve seen that video of when he tells you that he’s officially your adopted brother.” It’s been almost a year since Viktor posted that video, but it’s still his favorite. “Why do you think he went through that trouble with your parents when he was already seventeen? He didn’t have to do that, and I’m sure no one could have forced him to if he didn’t want to. But he surprised you with it. Because he wants you to know that he loves you, and he trusts you, and he wants you in his life.”

At that, Viktor laughs. “Try telling him that,” he says. “Make sure Phichit sends me the video of Yura beating you to death when you do.”

Yuuri smiles. “But you see what I mean, right?” he says, then turns to keep walking. “Don’t worry about him too much. If he needs you, he’ll let you know. In his own way.”

“Yeah,” Viktor agrees. “Can I ask you a different favor, then?” He feels Yuuri’s slightly concerned glance, then continues, “even if you aren’t letting me know how he’s doing, call me sometime?”

“Oh, uh.” Yuuri shuffles a little as he walks, looking at the ground. “Yeah,” he says. “I’d like that.”

  
  


Yuuri’s flight is early the next morning, but they spend several long hours of the night staying up, talking about how different their lives are now than what they expected years ago, about the things they enjoy that aren’t their professions, about the music they’ve been listening to on repeat and what food they’re most excited to eat when they get home. They talk through the restaurant and shops and all the way back to Yuuri’s hotel room, where they settle in and talk more.

Viktor finally leaves Yuuri’s room about three hours before Yuuri needs to leave for his flight.

“Text me when you land,” Viktor tells him, leaning his forehead against Yuuri’s and breathing him in.

“I will.”

“Fly safe,” Viktor says as he pulls away from Yuuri, then brings Yuuri’s hand to his mouth and gently kisses his knuckles. “I’ll be sure to watch you at the final.”

  
  


It’s a full day later before Viktor receives confirmation that Yuuri has made it to Detroit, but he doesn’t mind that. It’s worth it for the picture he gets of a jetlagged Yuuri with Yuri, Otabek, and Phichit in the background with a big banner that says “Congratulations, Yuuri!” Phichit has a tinier sheet of paper that, thanks to a second photo that comes in, Viktor can see says, “On gettin’ the guy!”

Yuuri sends one final picture of Yuri making a gross face at Phichit’s smaller poster, and he loves it. Absolutely worth the wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, call me out on any formatting/grammar/continuity errors, and feedback is appreciated!
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://mrscalculation.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MrsCalculation) @MrsCalculation!


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